


All the Games we Play

by mundaneone



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-20
Updated: 2011-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-27 15:18:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/297246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mundaneone/pseuds/mundaneone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Remeber how the Joker said he 'almost believed' Harvey was Batman?  How about an AU where Batman doesn't make it in time to let the Joker realize that Harvey ISN'T Batman and poor defenseless kidnapped Harvey must do his best to keep the Joker believing that he's RIGHT, to protect the real Batman and let him go on working for the city..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the Games we Play

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LJ 08/06/2008
> 
> Written for the Batman Kink Meme. The prompt was "Remeber how the Joker said he 'almost believed' Harvey was Batman? How about an AU where Batman doesn't make it in time to let the Joker realize that Harvey ISN'T Batman and poor defenseless kidnapped Harvey must do his best to keep the Joker believing that he's RIGHT, to protect the real Batman and let him go on working for the city..."

Harvey remembered explosions. He remembered the sounds of bullets, and rocket launchers (who wandered around with rocket launchers anyway?) and, God, the screams that the poor kid across from him had emitted when he’d gone up like a piece of tissue paper. That hadn’t been fun, no matter how much the Joker had laughed. He was, in all honesty, rather surprised by the Bat’s absence, but Harvey supposed that it was all for the better. As long as the Joker thought that Harvey was Batman then the killings would stop. For the moment, anyway. And if it meant that horrid, unspeakable things were to happen to his person in the meantime Harvey could accept that. Because the people of Gotham needed to be protected and The Batman couldn’t do it alone. 

A noise in the darkness drew Harvey’s bleary eyed attention. At first it seemed like nothing more than a shift in the shadows and for a fleeting moment Harvey allowed himself to hope that The Batman had come to his rescue but then the Joker stepped into the light, all sickening smiles and flashy hand gestures. 

“Harvey, Harvey, Harvey, this really was quite the surprise!” The Joker sashayed closer and if not for the fact that Harvey was quite firmly restrained he would have attempted to run away. As it was all the poor district attorney could do was watch the clown approach. “Who would have thought the straight laced district attorney was in actuality the Bat!? And here I thought you didn’t have a sense of humor! Proved me wrong, Harvey, indeedy!” 

By that point the clown had crouched down before him, black rimmed eyes peering up at Harvey intently. “So, Batsy, how’s it feel to lose the game?” 

Harvey swallowed, bit back his fear and pictured Rachel, smiling happy Rachel. “I haven’t lost. You’ve caught me, you haven’t beaten me.” 

The Joker smiled, scars curling and makeup cracking in demented glee. “Oh, not yet, Harvey. Not yet. But I will. Won’t that be fun?” The hand on his thigh was totally unexpected but Harvey refused to flinch, refused to back down. Because The Batman wouldn’t have and for now that’s who Harvey was. 

The knife the Joker slipped from his coat pocket was something Harvey recognized, something he understood. With a curling of his lips Harvey glared down at the man before him. He would not give this madman what he wanted. He couldn’t. Another flash of Rachel, beaming at him as the truck doors closed, his father’s coin clutched in her hand. 

A sharp sting on his cheek snapped Harvey’s attention back to the Joker. The clown chidingly waved the knife Harvey’s face. “Tut-tut, Harvey! You have to pay attention to   
_me_   
! No silly daydreaming, you’ll miss all the    
_fun_   
~” Harvey wasn’t sure which unnerved him more, the knife or the fact that the Joker was talking in sing-song tones. When the knife slipped into his suit Harvey decided that this wasn’t going in the direction he had expected it to. That is until the Joker had taunted: 

“No fun painting without seeing the canvas!” 

And that was when Harvey realized that he would probably never see Rachel again. The thought was chased away by the first graceful arcing of the Joker’s blade across his chest. 

“They aren’t coming, Harvey. They can’t help you.”    
_Yes they can. The Batman can. But can’t say that out loud. I’m The Batman, can’t very well come to my own rescue, can I?_   
 In his mind a high pitched giggle sounded and it disturbed him immensely that it sounded like the man before him. 

“No one cares about poor Harvey. You’re a bad bad bat! Killing all those people-“ A harsh swipe of the blade across his arm. 

“I didn’t kill anyone!” 

The clown pouted, “Oh but you did, Batsy. All those poor people who died before you turned yourself in to me,” the blade slid teasingly across Harvey’s jaw, almost like a caress. Did I turn myself into him? I don’t remember that… “and the police you were hiding with. Like that boy in the back with you. That’s your fault Harvey. You did that.” 

Whatever protests Harvey would have made were interrupted when the Joker lowered his head and licked a long stripe of blood from Harvey’s collarbone. The attorney froze so suddenly and completely that he swore he heard the bones grinding to a halt. Impossibly wide eyes locked onto the Joker’s laughing face. 

“Oh Harvey, why so serious?” 

The next time the tongue glided across his skin Harvey shivered and it didn’t escape his notice the way the clown’s eyes dilated. The blade cut into his skin at his jaw line and traced upwards in a narrow incision. Seconds later the Joker’s lips had latched onto the cut and a happy gurgling sound came as he suckled the blood. 

“Do you think they care, Batsy? You’re just a freak to them, after all! Just like me!” Another insane high pitched giggle. 

“N-no!” And, Jesus, was that the clown’s hand on his crotch? What the Hell was going on? “It’s not like that! I    
_help_   
 people!” 

“I help them too, Bats. I help them see how much better the world can be if they just. Let. Go!” And the hand on him pressed harder, nearly painful and Harvey clenched his eyes shut and thought Rachel, Rachel, Rachel- 

It wasn’t a slap that the Joker used to coerce Harvey into paying attention this time; instead it was a harsh slice of the knife from his hip up to his left nipple. His jaw was clutched in a painful grip and Harvey stared in wide-eyed shock into the eyes of a madman. 

“You pay attention to    
_me_   
! No thinking of silly little whores in blue dresses for you, Bats.” His tone was so low, so serious that for a moment it wasn’t really the Joker anymore. It was just a very scary man with a knife, which, oddly, wasn’t quite as terrifying. A voice in the back of Harvey’s mind was whispering to him, telling him to nod and play the obedient little hostage. To do whatever his captor wanted, just make the cutting stop. Harvey shoved that voice down, very far down. He was no coward. He would not cower, he glared spitefully at the Joker and smiled. 

“Oh,” he drawled, “and here I was thinking that blue would be such a pretty color on you, clown.” 

The Joker froze, expression blanking for a moment before it transformed into pure fury. When the punch came Harvey couldn’t help but laugh, blood and spittle dribbling from his mouth. His triumph (and Harvey really started to wonder at himself that he was counting getting punched in the face as a win) was short lived because the Joker’s hands were suddenly on him again, gloved fingers harshly undoing Harvey’s belt. 

“Bats, Bats,” the Joker chided, “It’s not nice to tease. We’re friends, you and me. Two of a kind. A real pair.” Harvey wished he’d shut up, the babbling was distracting him and he was trying to figure out what to do because the Joker’s Hand Was In His Pants. Like, right now. And Jesus, if this was what the Joker had wanted from The Batman no wonder the guy decided not to turn himself in! 

“You and me Harvey,” and the Joker was still talking! “we took this city by storm! They didn’t know what hit them, did they! Oh no, silly little pawns!” The Joker twisted his wrist just so and Harvey gasped, and snarled something very unflattering into the Joker’s face. They were close now, noses near touching and heavy panting breaths billowing into one another’s faces. Harvey’s one of rage while the Joker looked as though he had just gotten everything he had ever wanted for Christmas. Plus the pony. 

“They need me, Bats. Don’t you see?” The Joker’s voice dropped to a purr, “And you need me too. Without people like    
_me_   
 there’d be no use for people like    
_you_   
. And we can’t have that, now can we?” 

And oh God, he was being raped wasn’t he? This couldn’t happen. He tried to block it out, tried to picture Rachel, but the painful scrape of nails on his very sensitive flesh shredded that attempt. 

“Oh Harvey, Harvey. What have I told you about paying attention? I had thought The Batman would have better manners.” 

He couldn’t block it, couldn’t replace the monster before him with his pretty Rachel. But, God, he needed to do something. And so he did. The next time the Joker stroked Harvey dipped his head and moaned. 

Everything froze in that instant. The Joker, normally so animated, had stilled the second Harvey had made the sound. And when the attorney forced himself to stare into the clown’s eyes what he saw there made him pause. The Joker’s eyes were wide, startled and almost hopeful. 

Finally the silence shattered. “Aw, Batsy, that’s sweet.” 

And Harvey couldn’t stop himself. He didn’t want to be raped, couldn’t be raped. So he would pretend. He would force himself to believe that he had wanted this. That way it would all be alright. 

“Fucking tease,” he ground out, thrusting his hips upward as best he could with the restraints. “Always going on and on and o-“ 

The Joker tasted like makeup, blood, and gunpowder. Which was rather odd because Harvey couldn’t imagine why the gunpowder was in the other man’s mouth. The hand that had been holding the knife to Harvey’s torso came up and clenched tightly in Harvey’s hair and hauled the bound man down for a deep kiss. Both hands fell away and Harvey retched himself backwards to pant for breath. 

“You know, Bats,” The Joker was saying, “I can make you feel good. Bet you’d just hate that, wouldn’t you?” 

Harvey couldn’t resist smirking, “Well that depends, clown, are we going on my definition of good or yours?” 

The Joker laughed, “Why mine, of course, Bats. My house my rules.” The blade was back, flickering in and out of Harvey’s line of vision. And he honestly expected it to cut him again (Hell he almost wanted it, would be better than going through the other tortures). But instead of piercing flesh the blade found his restraints. Once freed Harvey almost thought he could make it, almost thought he’d get away, but then there was the Joker and a very powerful fist slamming into his gut and Harvey slumped to the ground, gagging. 

“B-bastard!” The district attorney glared up at the man standing over him. 

“Ah now now, Harvey.” and the other man punched him in the face again, sending Harvey sprawling onto the floor. Before he could get up a heavy weight settled onto his hips, pinning him. “No need for name calling.” The Joker laughed and held the blade before Harvey’s eyes again, “See, Bats,” (And God, Harvey wished the Joker would stop intermingling how he addressed him, because he was starting to get confused. He wasn’t the Bat, right? Right, of course not.) “you and me are the same. We belong together.” One hand slinked its way down Harvey’s bared chest and Harvey panted. 

“Yeah?” He sneered, because he could. Because things really couldn’t get much worse. 

“Oh, yes~” Punctuated by a sinuous roll of hips. Harvey balked, eyelids fluttering and with great force of will Harvey bucked his hips in response. The Joker laughed, but the sound was off slightly and for the life of him Harvey couldn’t figure out why. 

“Ever thought of it, Bats?” The Joker was asking even as he peeled off his gloves. 

“Thought of what?” 

“Of you and me.” 

Harvey shrugged, flabbergasted that the Joker was shrugging his large purple coat off. “Sure, all time.” And then playing it up a bit, because he was The Batman, right? Not really, Harvey. “Thought about punching your face in. Thought about slitting your throat, about breaking your fingers one by one, about    
_throwing you out a fucking window_   
!” 

A gurgled moan escaped the painted lips of the man above him and the Joker’s hips rocked downwards sharply. “OH, Yes, Bats. That’s it. What else, tell me? Tell me tell me!” And dear lord the Joker was clapping his hands together like a child. Harvey wasn’t really paying attention, too focused on the fact that the Joker was undoing both their pants and that very soon this wasn’t going to be fun anymore. 

… 

What part of this was fun? None of it! That’s what! Oh Harvey, get a hold of yourself! 

But Harvey couldn’t stop. He pushed his horror and revulsion back and pretended, but he could hear the hysteria straining his voice. “Sure plenty more!” Harvey’s eyes were darting about now, “Always wondered if you tasted like makeup (you do by the way, very chemical, very    
_not_   
 you. You’re too wild to taste so synthetic.), thought about if you actually bleed or not… kind of wondered if you were even human…” 

“Course not, Bats. You and Me, we’re more than human. We’re something    
_special_   
.” 

Harvey laughed, “Sure we are,” and my, where had his pants gone? And the Joker hadn’t had his pants undone a second ago, had he? And gee, his cock sure looked big. This would hurt. Harvey allowed his hips to buck upwards. He panted like a wild animal, “wondered what it’d be like for you to fuck me. To fuck you. Bend you over, fuck you silly, see if you could still laugh afterwards…” 

The Joker laughed, “Oh Harvey, of course I could.” And then he thrust inside, no preparation, no warning. It hurt. A lot. Harvey was proud that he didn’t scream, didn’t cry, didn’t beg. The Batman would not beg. 

Harvey would not beg. 

And then the Joker was thrusting sharply inside him and Harvey couldn’t block it out. Not with the Joker’s unending slew of “Meant for each other”s and “just you an’ me Harv’!”s. And so Harvey snapped his hips upwards and met the Joker’s next thrust harshly. The Joker’s eyes popped when he stared down at the attorney. And Harvey moaned, groaned and damn near purred all while rolling his hips. 

That something was back in the clown’s eyes again. That thing that had arrived the first time Harvey had allowed himself to moan and suddenly it all made sense. All the talk of being made for each other, of being one and the same. The sex (rape!) was all about making The Batman want the Joker. Harvey would have laughed, but it was just too much! 

The Batman justified the Joker’s existence. The Joker wanted The Batman, wanted the power and violence that the Bat promised. He wanted that sense of justice and darkness to want him back. 

Harvey’s unbound arms twitched and he brought them up, twined them around the Joker’s neck. Eyes locked he saw the utter glee in the black rimmed eyes. This was what the Joker wanted, what he needed. A weakness in the clown’s defenses. 

The Joker should have been more careful. Harvey may be playing at being The Batman, but he was also a lawyer. And if there was one thing a lawyer was good at it was finding a weakness and exploiting it. 


End file.
